


ease into dreams, my dear

by katierosefun



Category: Victoria (TV)
Genre: Deleted Scenes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Kissing, Missing Scene, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 13:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8491159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: The time Queen Victoria was the one to wake Lord Melbourne; the other time when Lord Melbourne was the one to carry Victoria to bed, duties be damned. [Set somewhere around pre-1x03/middle of 1x03.]





	

_i._

She paced back and forth across her room, only dimly aware of the growing darkness as the sun gave way to the moon. She should have already gone to sleep, but her mind was far from any concept of rest. Too much had happened today – too much pressure had been placed upon _her_ – and there was nothing she could do about it at present.

 _Why_ must she be married? _Why_ couldn’t Parliament – or the people – her mother – her _household_ be satisfied with her will to rule alone? A husband would not do. A husband would _never_ do – he would only try to assert himself over her, as so many men had already done.

Well.

A corner of her lips twitched into a halfhearted smile. She paused at her window, catching a reflection of herself in the now-moonlit pane. She was struck by how sly the expression on her face looked – her face, it seemed, had perfectly molded what she was thinking.

Or, to be more specific, _who_ she was thinking about.

“Except him, I suppose,” she whispered to herself. _Him,_ with his gentle smile and slightly amused eyes and soft words. What a sharp contrast he made, especially to those like her many scheming, power-mongering uncles. Whereas she had been exhausted with each encounter with her uncles, each moment with _him_ had been nothing but warm and –

Victoria felt heat sink into her cheeks, the warmth feeling like twin kisses on each side of her face. She rested her forehead against the cool window pane, as if physical sensation alone could be enough to bring a calm to the steady rise of emotions within her. An ineffective method, she realized, but still, worth a try.

“Your Majesty.”

Victoria turned to Lehzen, who had ever patiently been waiting for her. Her friend smiled lightly, as though she, too, knew the precise thoughts running through Victoria’s mind. “I’m sorry to disturb you out of your…pleasantries,” Lehzen started with the faintest note of amusement, “but it is time for supper.”

“But of course.” Victoria hastened away from the dinner, brushing away the numbing cold over her forehead. “Mustn’t keep the household waiting.”

“Mustn’t keep your Lord Melbourne waiting, more like,” Lehzen commented as Victoria passed by her. Victoria felt another dangerous flush rise in her cheeks, but she couldn’t bring herself to deny such a statement.

“Oh, hush, Lehzen,” she could only say. “Lord Melbourne is always a guest here, is he not? And I would think that it’s only proper for me to –”

“ _Yes,_ Your Majesty,” Lehzen interrupted knowingly.

Victoria shook her head at her beloved governess – or whether she had done so to herself as well, Victoria couldn’t quite tell – and made her way down the corridors. She tried her best to keep the giddiness out of her smile as she entered the dining room.

And as the members of her household seated themselves, Victoria’s eyes – as always – swept across the whole room, looking for a familiar head of dark curls. When her eyes rested on the one empty seat at the table, she frowned.

_Where was he?_

“It seems Lord M is not present,” Victoria said abruptly, eyeing the empty chair. She turned her gaze to the rest of the table. “Has anyone an idea as to where he is?”

There was some impatient rustling amongst the table – Victoria had already grown accustomed to such a response whenever she brought up where Melbourne would be. Still, she persisted as she always had. “Is he ill?” she asked worriedly.

Only the faint scrape of chairs against the ground and the clatter of silverware responded.

Victoria felt a familiar flash of annoyance. “I demand an answer,” she said, not bothering to hide the sharpness from her voice.

Someone coughed – Victoria couldn’t tell who.

“I don’t believe anyone knows where Lord Melbourne is, Your Majesty,” Sutherland – God bless her soul – said at last. “I suspect most of us were under the impression that he was already here.”

 _As he usually is,_ was what the duchess meant.

Victoria felt as though someone had punctured a small hole in her somewhere. Her giddiness fizzled away, leaving her with only the empty well of disappointment. “I see,” she said, her hands gripping each other in her lap. “Well.” Her own voice sounded distant from her as she added in a softer tone, “A shame.”

Supper proceeded without further delay – and Victoria secretly resented the relief she felt in the atmosphere afterward. She ate slower than usual, letting all of usual dining conversations wash over her like a bitter cough syrup. She hated herself for feeling so disappointed and cold over the absence of just one person –

But what a significant absence it was.

By the time supper time was over, Victoria had already planned out the visit to Lord M.

* * *

No one seemed surprised by Victoria’s sudden presence in Melbourne’s house anymore. As soon as the door was opened, she was wordlessly led into the office of the house. Under different circumstances, Victoria would have felt a certain thrill at this kind of acknowledgement – already, she knew, her role in Melbourne’s life had been as much established as his role in hers was – but tonight, she felt nothing but annoyance. Childish, she knew, and yet, it grew with each step she took.

“For your sake, I hope you have a good –” Victoria began, but stopped short.

The office was dark, save for one candle that sat at the edge of a desk. Under the light of the candle, Victoria could make out sheaves of paper sprawled out on the desk, accompanied by pens and ink wells lined up in an array at the front. A few small books lay open around the edges, some with pages yellowed and fluttering out – others looking fairly new and just barely broken in. And at the very center of the mess, of course, was Lord M himself.

With his head resting on the desk and in nothing but a light robe and sleepwear, Victoria couldn’t help but smile at Melbourne. She had only ever seen him look so informal once before, and to see this again was…

Still smiling, Victoria crept closer. She crouched just a bit – for once grateful of her short height – and observed the lightest details of the man sitting before her. Even in the candlelight, Victoria could see the faint lines around Melbourne’s eyes left by years of smiles and laughter. Eyes roving upwards, Victoria could make out the lines of Melbourne’s forehead – these ones, she knew, were left by years of disappointment, stress…

Pain.

She fought the urge to brush a hand over his curls – as though she could hide away those signs of distress with such a small gesture.

 _Husband be damned,_ she thought to herself. She wouldn’t need any husband – all she needed was Melbourne, didn’t she? He was better than any other husband; she was certain of this.

 _Let’s get you into a proper bed,_ Victoria thought, placing a light hand on Melbourne’s shoulder. She breathed, “Lord M.”

Melbourne did not make any movements to wake.

Louder, Victoria repeated, “Lord M. It’s me, Victoria.”

Still, the man did not stir.

With an exasperated – but amused – sigh, Victoria lowered herself further so that her face would be opposite Melbourne’s. “Lord _M_ ,” she said clearly, shaking Melbourne’s shoulder with more firmness. “We must move you.”

For a heartbeat, Victoria believed that Melbourne would remain asleep – and for that heartbeat alone, his eyes remained closed. Victoria opened her mouth, ready to call out again when Melbourne’s eyes flickered open.

Victoria inhaled sharply as Melbourne’s basil-colored eyes came into focus with hers. At first, Melbourne’s sleepy features gave way to a faint smile – almost a dream-like one – and Victoria found herself smiling back.

However, another second ticked past, and then Melbourne’s smile fell. “Your Majesty,” he breathed, hoarse, as though he couldn’t bring his voice to be any louder.

“Lord M,” Victoria replied serenely. “How kind of you to wake.”

A moment of silence passed between them – and abruptly, Melbourne bolted upright, eyes wide with shock. “Your _Majesty,_ ” he repeated, his tone almost indignant. “How did you – you shouldn’t be –”

“You weren’t at supper,” Victoria said, biting back the urge to laugh. “I wondered if there was something wrong.”

“Wasn’t at –” Melbourne stopped. He looked around the room, sense dawning to his face. “I see.”

“Come along, then,” Victoria said, rising. “You’re tired, it seems – and I hardly think sleeping at your desk is proper.” She paused. “Not that I would know too much about being proper, thank you very much.” She was relieved to see Melbourne give out a small laugh.

They made their way out of the office, and it wasn’t until they were standing in front of Melbourne’s bedchambers did the man speak.

“I would think it is alright for you to leave me now, ma’am,” Melbourne said quietly at the doors.

“I suppose,” Victoria responded, her voice equally as soft. She turned to Melbourne. “But I would like…” She swallowed as she lifted her eyes to meet Melbourne’s. He was looking at her as he usually did these days – with some sense of bittersweet that Victoria had yet to understand. She would have to ask him about his mood as of late – but right now –

“I would like to accompany you for perhaps just a few minutes more,” Victoria said at last. She dreaded a rejection – or perhaps a gentle reminder of proper behaviors, but to her pleasant surprise, Melbourne only remained silent.

“I missed your company today,” Victoria said at last. “The day has been…a stressful one. There are too many people in my household waiting for me to marry.”

“Indeed, ma’am.”

Victoria turned herself fully. “I think it’s all a waste of time,” she said firmly. “What would you suppose?”

“Me, ma’am?”

“Yes.” Victoria felt her heart stutter as the expression on Melbourne’s face took an unreadable one. For the briefest of moments, a stab of frustration went through her – if only she could hear his thoughts, their lives would be that much simpler. “Please, Lord M – everyone keeps telling me only what the popular vote is, and frankly, I don’t _want_ to hear the popular vote. I want to hear what _you_ have to think.”

Melbourne smiled dryly. “And what if I thought the same as the popular party?”

“I don’t think you do, Lord M,” Victoria replied sincerely.

Melbourne’s lips parted slightly – though whether in slight surprise or because he was trying to think of something to say, Victoria couldn’t tell.

“Well?” Victoria pressed.

There was a silence.

Finally, Melbourne said softly, “I believe, Your Majesty…” His voice drifted and though she couldn’t quite see him in the dim candlelight throughout the hall, Victoria could have sworn he looked defeated. Weary.

Sad?

“I believe,” he repeated, “that in the end, you will find someone who even the popular party cannot touch.”

 _What am I to do with such a cryptic answer as that?_ Victoria wanted to ask, but she couldn’t bring herself to question further. She only nodded her head.

“Goodnight, Lord M,” she said quietly.

“Goodnight, Your Majesty.”

Victoria started to walk around him – and then, just as she was about to pass him, she reached out and took a hold of his hand. She felt instant warmth – and holding her breath, Victoria waited for Melbourne to maybe gently disentangle his hand from hers.

Instead, Victoria felt his fingers entwine around hers for the shortest of moments – and together, they squeezed.

“Goodnight,” Melbourne repeated.

Victoria kept her eyes staring straight ahead, wondering if Melbourne could perhaps hear her heart racing in her chest.

A part of her wished he did – a part of her hoped that in hearing it, whatever sadness he carried could be lifted. Would it be enough? Would it ever be enough?

“Goodnight, Lord M,” Victoria whispered.

_ii._

The queen had been quiet throughout supper, and it pained Melbourne to hear the bright Victoria suddenly silenced. She would not make eye contact with him, instead occasionally contributing to the constant palavering around the rest of the dinner table. It was either this, or Victoria was busy cutting off pieces of her food to feed Dash. Melbourne watched her out of the corner of his eye with a mix of both amusement and regret.

_“I think you have it already.”_

Victoria’s heartbroken face flashed again before him in such vividness that Melbourne could almost feel the pressure of her hand against his as he had held them earlier that day. Instead, he blinked and looked down – he was only holding the cold silverware. The smell of dead leaves from the garden was replaced by the stifling perfume of supper in the dining room. The distant bird callings were replaced by the chatter of the household. And Victoria’s autumn-sky eyes were replaced by the slightly darkened ones now.

“Prince Albert is to come soon,” Victoria’s mother said from somewhere along the table.

The supper conversation halted – and all eyes turned to Victoria. (All save Melbourne’s.)

“I do not wish to speak of my first cousin right now, Mama,” Victoria said coolly without another moment of hesitation. There was a clatter of silverware hitting a plate – and the supper attendants stepped forward to take the rest of the food off the table.

Melbourne examined a small stain of food sitting on the otherwise spotless tablecloth near him. He watched it as the deep red color darkened through the white, spreading in diameter only by a few hairs.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that one spot, even after dessert came and went.

* * *

It wasn’t as though Victoria had showed bitterness in an open manner to Melbourne – for that, he was most thankful – but since their discussion (if one could call it that) in the gardens, there were always open holes in their conversations. The inevitable _what if?_ loomed over their heads like thunderclouds each time they encountered each other; the suffocation of royal duty smothered them with each forced smile and laugh.

Did she know? Or did she only see Melbourne as someone who was still skulking in the past?

No, impossible – Melbourne saw that behind her ever-so-amused appearance, she understood things much deeper than she would ever dare reveal. It was because of this, Melbourne felt, that he knew Victoria would be safe from harm’s way even if he was out of her life. Even in her fits of passion, as frustrating as they could be (this, he recalled with a laugh to himself), she was braver and wiser than most her age. She could manage.

As would he, surely.

And yet –

“My bet’s still on Prince Albert,” Melbourne heard someone murmur from a few steps away. He dared not turn his head, in fear that this movement would be too conspicuous. Instead, he continued to listen as passively as he could.

“Are you sure about that?” a female voice, this time, lightly brushed with an accent that told Melbourne that the speakers must be the servants. “Victoria is _quite_ independent, isn’t she?”

“Please,” the other snorted. “These royals marry one way or another.”

“That cannot be the truth,” the female protested. “Look at Queen Elizabeth –”

“Queen Elizabeth was a special case.”

“Sir, do you mean to say that Queen Victoria is not –”

“You know what I mean. Just watch – by the end of the month, I assure you the wedding bells will be ringing and dear Queen Victoria will have her Prince Albert by her side.”

The female tsked. “I suppose so. Still, I should like to think…” Melbourne never got the chance to know what the female servant thought, for the pair walked away and the rest of the conversation drifted into the hubbub of the rest of the palace.

_And yet._

Melbourne rubbed his brow, as though to rub the conversation straight out of his memory.

 _And yet_ – he couldn’t help but feel a sharp twist in his gut at the thought of someone new coming into Buckingham Palace to be presented to Victoria.

_“These royals marry one way or another.”_

Melbourne was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice Emma Portman walking towards him. “You don’t happen to know where Queen Victoria is, do you?” the lady-in-waiting asked, her tone light. “Usually by now, we would have started a card game or two – only after dinner, she wished to be alone. I have yet to find where she is.”

“If she’s alone, I would think she doesn’t want any company,” Melbourne replied.

“I would think not – at least, not tonight,” Emma responded. She gave Melbourne a sly sidelong glance. “And I’m sure we all know why.”

Melbourne forced to turn his head down the corridor, feigning attention in one of the many portraits that hung from the walls. “I do not wish –”

“Go speak with her,” Emma insisted. “She insists on being perfectly at ease with her situation, but she’s rather disappointed.” When Melbourne didn’t respond right away, Emma rested a hand on his elbow. “Go on, Lord Melbourne,” she pleaded. “Put her mind to rest.”

How was he to put the queen’s mind to rest, Melbourne wondered, if his own mind was hardly eased? Such a task seemed cruelly ironic.

Still, Emma looked up at Melbourne with such hope that he found himself nodding. “I shall…see if she is indeed in any want of some company,” he replied, and broke away from his friend. He ignored the self-satisfied twitter from Emma.

* * *

He was admitted into her rooms without question – and too soon, his mind had already flashed forward in time to the weeks in which he’d be replaced. In time, he was certain, a different man – whether it was Prince Albert or not – would stroll into Victoria’s rooms and be the one to hold her and listen to her rants and laugh with her over the day’s ridiculous events and dry her tears and just _be_.

Melbourne almost walked out of the rooms from the sheer feeling of it all – as though this new husband had entered Victoria’s life already – as though already, Melbourne was the intruder.

 _Not yet,_ a small voice whispered from the back of his mind. _It hasn’t happened yet._

_Yes, but it will. One day – very soon – it will._

And he will be quite replaced.

Melbourne moved mechanically, placing one foot in front of the other as he made his way into Victoria’s office. He wasn’t sure what led him there – it was unusual for Victoria to be in her office at this hour – but to his surprise and confusion, she was there.

The side of Victoria’s face rested on her hand, which was propped up by the elbow at the edge of the table. In her other hand was a pen that was still dripping slightly with black ink, splotching the otherwise glossy and clean surface. There was no paper to be seen – which seemed odd, especially for a queen such as Victoria. Perhaps she had meant to write something but drifted off.

_What had she meant to write?_

Melbourne walked forward quietly and careful not to wake her, he carefully took the pen from Victoria’s grasp. He placed it down on the desk and paused, waiting for Victoria to stir and wake. When she did not, Melbourne looked around the rooms, as though someone else might come in – perhaps the baroness, but no one came. They were alone.

In the brightly-lit room, Melbourne could make out each detail of Victoria’s face. Her lashes fluttered delicately as she dreamed – her lips were neither smiling nor frowning – but a small, single line appeared between her dark brows, as though she was concentrating on something particularly difficult. Even in dreams, it seemed, the strain of being a young queen followed Victoria.

Melbourne tore his gaze away from Victoria. He could leave her now and slip away; he could call for the baroness to guide the queen up to bed. Such a task would be her job.

But the baroness was nowhere to be found and –

Against his will, Melbourne’s eyes drifted back down to the young queen. A strand of walnut-colored hair had fallen from her up-do to fall on the side of her fair face. He wondered if Victoria would wake if he was to brush the strand away – surely, she would, even if he moved as gently as possible.

He couldn’t just leave her there.

Melbourne sighed – more to himself than to the situation. He maneuvered himself carefully, a part of him hoping that Victoria wouldn’t wake and another part of him hoping that she would.

Victoria, even for her slight height, was heavier with her thick gowns. Still, Melbourne dared not even let out a breath as he picked her up from her chair. He gathered her to his chest and started for her bedchambers.

* * *

Victoria was only partially aware that she was being carried. She felt warm all over, as though she was sitting in front of a fire. One of her cheeks was brushing against a woolly fabric – the other was exposed to a slight breeze, as though she was being pushed through something.

She was comfortable. She didn’t want to leave.

Victoria let out a soft sigh, nestling the side of her face deeper into the fabric. It didn’t quite feel like a pillow – maybe a blanket? She could have…wound up on the other side of the bed –

No. Not bed. She was…

Victoria sleepily opened her eyes once – twice – thrice – before trying to take in her surroundings.

The first thing she saw was Lord M’s face.

His eyes weren’t looking down at her – rather, they were looking straight ahead. He had not noticed she was awake.

Everything quickly fell into place afterwards.

Victoria smiled, dazed. _Oh, the cruel irony,_ she thought. She could not have him – and yet, here she was, being carried by him as a bridegroom would a bride.

Too quickly, she felt the softness of blankets underneath her.

She wasn’t sure what it was – panic, or maybe hope, or perhaps she was just too tired to think straight – but as Melbourne turned to leave, Victoria’s hand shot out and grabbed a hold of his sleeve.

As clearly as she could, Victoria called, “Lord M.”

Melbourne froze.

“Stay.”

“Ma’am,” Melbourne’s voice came out soft – so soft that Victoria could barely hear him. “You know I cannot.”

“Please.” Victoria felt heat well behind her eyes. “Just for a moment. Just –” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, but they both knew what she meant.

_Just before everything changes._

Slowly, Melbourne turned. He looked down at Victoria, and for once, she could see everything on his face, even in the darkness of the room. How strange it seemed to Victoria now, how she hadn’t been able to read him when they were under the candlelight, but now she could see his vulnerabilities in complete darkness.

Victoria tugged at Melbourne’s sleeve again – and this time, he sat down at the edge of the bed. Victoria sat herself up, her hand moving down from Melbourne’s sleeve down to his hand.

“I –” Melbourne hesitated.

“Yes?” Victoria breathed. “Be truthful, Lord M.”

A corner of Melbourne’s lips rose into a sad smile. “It appears Prince Albert will be coming to Buckingham Palace soon.”

“I won’t ever marry him,” Victoria said sharply. “I refuse to. My –” She felt something lodge into her throat. “My heart,” she continued, “belongs to you. I cannot…I cannot simply _change_ that – _no, Lord M._ ” She forged on as Melbourne started. “Duty or not – I will not forget. It cannot be changed. I – _you_ –” She felt frustration bubble up inside of her. The right words… _damn_ , what were the right words?

“ _You_ ,” Victoria said at last, “have become far too significant in my life for me to change my heart so quickly.”

There was a silence.

Victoria held her breath. What would happen now? What _could_ happen now?

Then, in a small, heartbroken voice, Melbourne whispered, “May I kiss the bride?”

Victoria felt her heart sink.

He had already accepted it – she knew it.

Otherwise, why would he even give her such a title?

And yet, she found herself nodding her head. _Just before everything changes,_ she thought to herself as she leaned forward.

* * *

 _Just before everything changes,_ Melbourne thought as Victoria’s lips found his.

* * *

His lips were softer than she had thought they’d be. One hand was still resting on Melbourne’s; the other was brushing fingers against the soft bristles of his face. Victoria felt one of Melbourne’s hands cup the back of her head – and she couldn’t help but shiver at such a gentle touch.

She pushed forward. She would not falter.

_Just before everything changes._

* * *

 

There was something desperate in her kiss now, but not desperate enough to be interpreted as angry or hopeless. Rather, Melbourne felt as though she was kissing as though they were just about to run out of time.

Which they were.

He felt something wet drop on his cheek – he was too unsure of himself to tell if it was him or her.

He couldn’t bring himself to wipe it away, anyways.

* * *

Even as the grey light of the morning filtered into his chambers, Melbourne could not bring himself to rise from bed.

He could still feel Victoria’s lips on his.

* * *

Even as the grey light of the morning filtered into her chambers, Victoria could not bring herself to rise from bed.

She could still feel Melbourne’s lips on hers.

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I made the mistake of binge-watching this show in 1.5 days, so memory doesn't serve me perfectly well. I'm also sorry for any historical inaccuracies (besides the obvious ones, of course); I'm not entirely familiar with the formalities during the Victorian era, nor am I British, so I may have mixed up some terms. 
> 
> Reviews are always appreciated!


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